One Hell of a Woman
by johnnydicaprio
Summary: James Potter had never been much of a philosopher. He'd been afraid of getting lost in his own mind and never finding a way out. But for Lily, for Lily he'd do anything.


_Alright, so this is another random (shock, horror) fic. I've been feeling very James-pro lately, and all my stories tend to become from his point of view. _

_So this is one of them. Certain comments he makes at the end are from Spike from Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Fans will know which. _

_Hope you like it!! _

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**Too Far Gone**

She still thinks I don't know her. That I have absolutely no idea who she is. And that she knows _exactly _who I am. How horrible I am. How utterly toe-raggy, arrogant and big-headed I am. The depths of my "cold, black heart."

Her words, not mine.

The truth is, she hasn't even taken the time to know me. In all fairness, I haven't let her, I guess. I don't know. But spending the last five years watching her has taught me all _I've _ever needed to know.

Contrary to what many people might think I believe, I know she's not perfect. I'm not under the impression that she is a goddess or a diety, and though I let her walk over me, I don't go that easy on her either, I suppose.

She's not what people would perceive as humble. When she's got something, she flaunts it.

She's not gentle. She shouts, yells and hits.

She's not flawless. Her hair sticks up in odd ways.

She's not reserved. She eats, walks, sits and acts anyway she wants.

She doesn't hold back. She says anything that she thinks, when she wants to, how she wants to.

She's insufferable, at times. Her honesty stings.

The thing is, I don't _care_ about it. I don't care if she doesn't spend countless hours in front of the mirror covering up every single blemish on her face. I don't care if she doesn't spend heaps of money on her hair enough to feed a starving village. I don't _care_ if she doesn't sit/eat/walk/talk as she is told. I don't care if she's loud, obnoxious, conceited, brutally honest and generally violent. I don't _care_. In fact, I find her honesty endearing.

Well not endearing, per say. More along the lines of...lovable.

...Alright that's a downright lie.

I find her honesty...refreshing.

Someone who doesn't worship me. She can tell me anything she wants. And I wouldn't care. She can get away with it. Not because I love her too much to snipe back, I do preserve my ego/pride/honor/reputation and so forth. There are a very few people who can say what she says to me and live. But I let her because I love the look she gets on her face when she thinks she's won. It makes her genuinely smile. Albeit a slightly corrupted, evil, abnormally cheery smile, but a smile nonetheless. And I can rarely see her smile like that.

She pretends like she thinks what people say don't matter.

I know better.

I know the muscles in her jaw tense the moment she loses her temper.

I know that she bites the inside of her lip to keep from cursing. Head girl, and all that.

And I _see_ the tears welling up in her eyes even before she feels them.

I **know** her limit.

And I pride myself in crossing it every available second. I like the thrill. The thrill of driving her insane. Of knowing I affect her. Make her feel something.

It doesn't matter how much she yells, screams, insults or hits me. It doesn't change how I feel about her. And maybe that's why I need it. I hang on to it. It's like a life raft. This one thing I'm faithful to in my life, reassures me that I'm not a total arsehole.

I've never been much of a philosopher. I've always been afraid I'd get lost in my own mind and never find a way out.

I don't know what I'm trying to say, exactly. I'll know when I'm done saying it.

I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood. Which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain.

So I make a lot of mistakes. More than my share, in fact.

But this is something I _know_ I'm doing right. I'm sure of it. It's the _only_ thing I'm sure of. Her. She's Lily. I love her. And I know that.

She's mad.

Out of her mind.

Though I am the one to thank for half of her insanity.

And that's what I love most about her. It makes her Lily. Makes her special, different, unique.

It makes her _mine._

When I say I love her, it's not because I want her. Or because I can't have her.

It has nothing to do with me.

It's _her. _

I love what she is.

What she does.

How she tries.

I've seen her kindness, and her power and her strength. I've seen the best and _worst _of her, and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what she is.

She is one _hell_ of a woman.

And I'm too far in love to fall out of it.

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_Sigh. If I had James, I'd never let him go. _

_Anyway, beyond personal lustful feelings I have towards him, please review if you liked it!! And review even if you didn't still like it. Critisize, tell me what annoyed you. _

_Or just drop in an say hi! _

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Johnnydicaprio


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